


Drinks and Dancing

by fab_fan



Series: Drunk Words - Sober Thoughts [1]
Category: Motherland: Fort Salem (TV)
Genre: Cute, F/F, Falling In Love, Fluff, Happy, Idiots in Love, No Angst, Romance, mostly - Freeform, these two are too much sometimes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:28:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24302896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fab_fan/pseuds/fab_fan
Summary: “You’re drunk, Private Collar.”“No.” Raelle shook her head, her southern dawl lilting more than usual, “No, ma’am, I am not.”Scylla didn’t mention how Raelle may have somehow tripped over her own feet...while standing still.Takes place after the end of Episode 1x02
Relationships: Raelle Collar/Scylla Ramshorn
Series: Drunk Words - Sober Thoughts [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1755784
Comments: 46
Kudos: 436





	Drinks and Dancing

Scylla slipped out of the dorm building, closing her eyes for a moment as she let the cool night air wash over her. She allowed the light breeze to wrap around her like a comforting balm. It settled across her shoulders and into her chest, filling her lungs and calming her rapidly beating heart.

Her fingers twitched unconsciously as the memory of the balloon eerily floating on the other side of the mirror, drawing her in before smashing the glass, flashed across her mind. She inhaled sharply, the roar of the splintering shards echoing in the quiet. 

The ring of laughter and fumbling footsteps broke into her thoughts, pulling her out before she could wonder why this assignment was getting to her. Why her chest clenched, and not just because the leader on the other end threatened her. Why she needed to be warned at all.

Shaking the jitters out of her hands, she let her eyes slide open. Muted voices ebbed and flowed, and she caught the hint of a shriek. 

Her lips twitched. The newly enlisted units were celebrating after attending the Pageant. She remembered her first year, when someone snuck in a few bottles of wine, and the entire building warmed with comradery and jokes.

Teeth snagged her bottom lip as the image of sparkling blue eyes and pale pink lips appeared at the edge of her memory. 

Bellweather Unit would most certainly be partaking in the festivities. Letting off some steam between intense training sessions. 

Her eyes rolled. 

Maybe they would be. 

High Atlantic might be a stiff about it. She remembered how High and Mighty looked at the pizza parlor, all tense and arrogant as she tried to stare Scylla down. 

A scoff. As if she would be intimidated by that.

The other girls...Tally and Glory...they probably would. Raelle spoke somewhat highly of Tally. Saying she was nice...naive...and sometimes annoying as hell with her bright sunshiny ways, but a good person. 

Innocent.

Not like them. 

Scylla felt her cheeks stretch slightly with a tiny smile. Raelle. The brash blonde with a dangerous smirk. She would most definitely join the fun. 

_ You’re so beautiful. _

Scylla blinked as Raelle’s ghostly voice whispered in her ear. 

She needed to reel Raelle in. Make her trust her. Make her want to join the Spree. To see the truth about what was happening in the world. 

But seeing the absolute...adoration in Raelle’s eyes as they came together, kissing in the cemetery, the feel of Raelle’s hands on her face and body pressed into hers…

Scylla exhaled roughly.

Shaking her head to clear it, she peered to the side as the sound of boots unevenly clomping against the dirt and grass was followed by a muttered curse. A gaggle of privates stumbled into view. Two of them swayed together, their arms wrapped around shoulders and plastic cups dangling from slippery hands. 

One girl, a little off to the side of the other two, tugged lazily at the sleeve of her jacket, stretching to her full height, which wasn’t much, as if she was trying to work a kink out of her back. Or not fall over.

Raelle.

It was Raelle.

As if sensing her, Raelle’s head whipped around, sight landing on Scylla.

Scylla’s heart quickened as a dopey grin overtook the younger girl’s face. Like a baby deer attempting to walk for the first time, Raelle spun around and jogged over to her, “Hey...Hi… Hello.”

Scylla couldn’t help but chuckle at the adorableness, “Hi.”

Raelle blinked dazedly as she rumbled to a stop, tilting forward and back, “Hi.”

“You already said that.”

“Oh.” her face scrunched up, “yeah.” The smile was back, “Hey, beautiful.”

Rolling her eyes, Scylla grabbed her hand. Their fingers instantly tangled together, “Having fun?”

Raelle stared at their joined hands.

Giving her fingers a light squeeze to gain her attention, Scylla tried again, “What are you doing over here?” Circe was on the other side of campus.

“Oh,” Raelle jerked her head up, “I was...there was...Tally was talking about units and stuff, which was sort of sweet and nice and she’s really drunk and I’m not sure she’s been drunk before and maybe I should’ve stayed with her but she called you my girlfriend and Abi did too and I wanted to see you.” 

Well. Huh. “Girlfriend, huh?”

Raelle nodded fiercely, “Yeah, and they liked meeting you, which is great, because they like you, and Tally likes you, and  _ I _ like you.”

“You like me?” teased Scylla, cutting off the start of what could be a long ramble.

Clearly Raelle liked to talk when she had a few drinks.

Raelle looked offended, “Of course I like you. You’re..” she gestured wildly with her joined hands, causing both to flop about, “you.”

“I’m me?” an eyebrow playfully ticked up.

“Well, yeah. Who else would you be?”

A bolt of pain and fear shot through Scylla’s chest like an arrow. Hiding it, she smirked, “You’re drunk, Private Collar.”

“No.” Raelle shook her head, her southern dawl lilting more than usual, “No, ma’am, I am not.” 

Scylla didn’t mention how Raelle may have somehow tripped over her own feet...while standing still.

“I think you are.” She grasped Raelle’s other hand, gently swinging both, “Let me guess...you’re one of those girls who likes something fruity...with a little umbrella. Something pink.”

The indigity rolled off Raelle as she stepped back, “No’m. Ain’t no umbrellas in the Cession. Cession Collars ain’t drinking...pink.” Her cheeks turned red as she tried to push back her shoulders and puff out her chest. “Collars don’t get drunk. We...we…hold our own just fine.”

How Scylla wasn’t laughing out loud could only be chalked up to goddess level will power. “Uh huh.”

“We do.” Raelle lifted her left hand, trying to point at Scylla, “High Atlantics and...and...matri-wherever Tally came from might think they can drink, but they ain’t never had moonshine like my neighbor Nahuel makes. You…” she trailed off.

“I, what?” Scylla asked after a few seconds.

Raelle swallowed thickly, “Goddess, you’re pretty.”

Scylla felt those blue eyes deep inside. Her mouth trembled as she did her best to not let the emotions she pretended didn’t exist bubble up, “You’re not so bad yourself.”

Raelle leaned closer, filling whatever space was left between them. She licked her lips, ducking her head shyly “Would,” she sniffed, words catching in the back of her throat.

Scylla bent a bit, searching for her eyes, “Rae?”

Silently taking a breath, Raelle lifted her head, locking hopeful eyes with the necro, “I’d very much like to dance with you.”

And, Scylla may be a liar, but saying her heart wasn’t exploding into a thousand butterflies in her belly would be impossible.

Why did Raelle have to be like this? How was this kid with a chip on her shoulder a mile wide able to pull on long dead heartstrings with a charming grin and eyes bright like salva? 

The brunette pushed forward, how could she not, kissing Raelle before her mind caught up with her emotions. It was automatic. Instinctual. Driven by everything inside of her. She let go of Raelle’s hands, wrapping her arms around the other girl. Her hands smoothed over her back, lightly scratching in a way that spoke of familiarity and care, before cupping her neck. Her thumbs traced the cut of her jaw. 

It was messy, Raelle taking a second to even realize what was happening before she kissed her back. Fingers curled around supple hips. She eagerly dove in, wet and hot but still sweet. Still affectionate. 

One kiss quickly became two which immediately became three. 

Lips and teeth and tongue worked together. Scylla felt like she was flying. Her mind briefly wondered if she should have tied a rope to her ankle. Imagined they were back to the night that seemed so long ago. Floating and falling and seeing something in each other that should have been scary as hell but was so special that it was more potent than a siren’s call.

Cold fingertips slipped under Scylla’s shirt, tickling her sides and drawing tiny fires in their wake.

Scylla broke away, peppering kisses against Raelle’s chin and cheek before she rested her forehead against Raelle’s, basking in the taste of liquor on her tongue and the affection in her arms. The couple began to sway back and forth, letting the soft melody of the night guide them. 

Raelle felt heavy in her arms. The late hour and alcohol did their best to lure her away, but she stubbornly stayed. 

Scylla rubbed her thumbs back and forth. She grinned at the nearly inaudible purr her ministrations elicited. 

“You’re the best thing I’ve ever had.” Raelle confessed.

Scylla’s breath stuttered at the declaration. 

Raelle continued, “You make everything ok. You make me ok.”

Normally, Scylla would snap back with a snarky sassy remark or seduce her into her bed with a hot kiss and insistent hands. Anyone else, and Scylla would have them half undressed already.

But  _ this  _ wasn’t normal or anyone else.

She couldn’t pretend it was. Not with the moon enveloping them in shadows and celestial light. Not with Raelle cradling her like she truly was the most precious thing in the world.

Guiding Raelle to bury her face in the crook of her neck and hugging her close, Scylla choked out, “You make me ok, too.” Her eyelashes fluttered as Raelle lightly kissed the side of her neck. “We should get you to bed, baby.”

Raelle grumbled, “‘m dancin’.” She blindly scrambled to catch one of Scylla’s hands, clasping it after a few seconds and half successfully mimicking a more traditional dancing pose. “Few more minutes, Scyl. Dance with me a few more minutes.”

There was nothing else Scylla wanted more.

“Ok,” she pressed her cheek to Raelle’s temple, “Ok.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I was writing this up to the start of the season 1 finale...and then I was an emotional wreck. I did my best to finish while still ugly crying. Hopefully it offers a bit of fluff and reprieve from the grief and angst of that episode. I might still be ugly crying.


End file.
